Old Friend
by tea-is-liquid-wisdom
Summary: Reid visits Ethan again while in New Orleans. A confession ensues. No slash, just friendship.


**Hey, everyone! So, I decided to write a oneshot with no sort of plan at all to it. I'm not sure hwo it turned out as the whole time I was writing it, I was thinking "what the heck am I writing?" But, after reading through it, I don't think it's that bad. The thing that I don't like is that I didn't focus on the emotions as much as I usually do as Ethan is a pretty unknown and minor character. This isn't slash, just friendship. This takes place after near the end of season 8.**

**On another note... I'm beginning to consider a sequel to my story "Born to Die". It would focus more on Reid and Nate, I think. I mean, I'm not sure about it and I don't have a plan, but would anyone be interested? Let me know!**

**Disclaimer- I sadly do not own this fantastic show.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Reid turned his head and looked at his old friend, whom he hadn't seen in far too long. The team had come here once again for a case, a serial arsonist, and he'd decided to visit.

He was sitting on an expensive piano bench. _He is by no means a wealthy man, a jazz musician in New Orleans doesn't make too much,_ Reid thought as he looked around the man's small, shabby home. _This piano is expensive; he probably paid so much for it because he's use it constantly; music is his passion‒" _The genius cut himself off, mentally scolding himself for profiling his friend. Reid turned his body slightly to the left for a better view of the man beside him.

"What is it?" Ethan said without looking, obviously having sensed the young man's gaze.

Reid swallowed sheepishly at having been caught, "Uh, nothing... Is this what you did after you quit FBI training?"

"What?" Ethan looked up from his playing and turned to his friend beside him.

"Piano," Reid clarified. "Last time we spoke… last time I was here, I guess, you said that your music makes you happy. Is that what you took up after you left FBI training?"

"Yeah, almost immediately, I guess. I got a job as a jazz musician about a year later. I'd already played around with it a bit before, though. It's my passion, you could say," Ethan answered and then paused for a moment. "Have you ever played?"

Reid nodded. "There was a case once in Louisiana; an autistic boy named Sammy… his parents were abducted. He was trying to tell us information using his piano; he kept playing the same song. After that case, I bought myself my own keyboard. I play around with it, but it's all essentially math."

Ethan chuckled. "You could've just said yes, man."

The younger man gave a small smile in return and Ethan continued. "Last time you were here you weren't happy; you looked like Hell. You still don't look right, man. Is it just the job?"

"You remember that?" The genius asked.

"I don't need an eidetic memory to remember a time when a friend needed help. I also don't need to be a genius to recognize when a friend _still _needs help," Ethan replied seriously.

Reid shifted nervously, "It's not the job… I love my job, even though it can be stressful." Reid had to stop for a moment to ponder whether or not he was going to continue and open up to his old friend. "It's… there was a girl… Maeve Donovan. I was in love with her and… she was m-murdered in front of me."

Ethan looked at him seriously. He wasn't expecting the sudden confession from his very private friend. He wasn't going to say that it was a terrible thing; Reid already knew that it was. "I'm sorry, man." He didn't know what else to say at the moment.

"I guess… I still haven't quite gotten over it yet. We never met until she was shot. We wrote each other letters, and spoke on the phone. I'll never forget a single word she ever said to me..." It was true; he wouldn't ever forget a word she wrote to him, or said to him. Even if he didn't have an eidetic memory, Reid still knew that he probably wouldn't have forgotten a thing.

"The downside of an eidetic memory," was all Ethan said. He knew his friend and he knew that, right now, all Reid needed was to be listened to and understood; he didn't need reassuring because Reid already knew that he would eventually be okay.

"So," Ethan turned back to his grand piano. "Do you know this one?" He turned to a new page of sheet music.

"No," Reid smiled.

* * *

**"Reid" and review, please!**

**Also, nominations for Profilers Choice Awards 2013 hosted by CCOAC forum have started! If you'd like to fill out a ballot and can't figure out how, got to the forum "Profiler Choice Awards 2013" for a ballot and further instruction! Good luck!**


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